


Pulling

by nagia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Episode Tag, M/M, dark!stiles, troubling unchildlike behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:45:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagia/pseuds/nagia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's been gone months, but he could swear that there's something different about Stiles.  Not even his smile seems to mean the same thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pulling

Derek watches the twins with borderline suspicion, even as he keeps an ear on Melissa McCall's heartbeat. He doesn't honestly think they're going to give into their wolves or their murderous natures in the middle of a crowded hospital. But he remembers Boyd, and the smell of them all over Cora, and they will never register as anything but threats to him.

Something like lightning crawls around under his skin, buzzing impatience. He wants to follow Scott, wants to check up on Stiles, the only player unaccounted for in this twisted game. But he doesn't dare leave this hallway, doesn't dare abandon the kitsune or Melissa with the twins so nearby.

But it seems it's fine: Scott brings Stiles out into the waiting area. Stiles's hand rests loosely on Scott's shoulder. His heartbeat is rabbity, just as it was the last time Derek saw him, and his mouth is curled into an easy smile. But his eyes are tense, exhausted, and when Stiles catches sight of the group, his eyes narrow a moment.

Derek remembers the hand clasped to his shoulder, the baseball bat exploding into splinters, and understands.

The easy smile returns. Stiles's eyes relax. His skin is too pale, though.

"Kira," Stiles says. voice warm. "Glad to see you're okay and, like, not evil. Scott filled me in." He pauses, and though his smile widens at one corner, even more warmth shading his eyes, his voice remains normal. "Derek, man, it's good to have you back."

"What are we," one of the twins says. "Chopped liver?"

"Nah, you look pretty whole. Separate, but otherwise okay. Oh, well. I guess I need another unattainable dream, right?" But Stiles's face turns, seeking Derek's, and for a moment their eyes meet. And for an instant, the honey-brown doe eyes darken, until they're almost black.

* * *

Melissa lets Stiles stay with Scott until the word on Agent McCall's surgery comes through: the damage has been repaired, and though he's critical, he's stable. Not only do they expect him to pull through, it's possible he'll regain full function in his arm, with enough physical therapy.

Derek listens to the talk with half an ear. He knows humans are fragile, but it's surreal to think a single stab that didn't even hit the heart could do so much potentially irreparable damage. He remembers the bruises on Stiles's face when Scott forced him to bite Gerard, and remembers how long they took to fade during the summer they spent hunting down the alpha pack.

It's instinct to look over at Stiles — Stiles, his ally, his almost friend — and what he sees is alien. Stiles wears no expression at all, does not thrum with nervous energy. His heart pounds quick and hard in his ribcage, but there is no sign of the thoughts that must be whirling like a cyclone inside his head.

But then Stiles catches his eye, and though his mouth curls into a slow smile, he shakes his head. _Later_ , he mouths.

* * *

"Did you get a look behind Stiles's ear?"

"No," Scott says. "He says he didn't see them. He thinks he was sleep-walking."

And Derek almost asks: And do you believe that? But he knows how Scott would take it.

"Has he been...?"

"Since the Nemeton, yeah. It's been pretty rough on him. He stopped being able to read, stopped being able to tell when he was awake or not. It's mostly over now, but he was in the hospital for a reason."

"We should check," Derek says.

* * *

He takes his usual way into the Stilinski house: a simple jump to the lower part of the roof, then slides open the window. The bed is right next to it, and Derek pauses.

Stiles looks up from the corner of his bed, where he's dragged his laptop. For some reason he hadn't bothered with a shirt tonight, and Derek's gaze flicks to the moles that he can see in the glow, the toned arms and surprisingly defined abs. He'd known that Stiles wasn't actually weedy or frail since the pool incident, but actually seeing is a different matter.

Stiles doesn't let him get away with it. He looks down at himself, then looks back up with a wry smile and a twist of his brow.

"Something you need?" His voice is light, breezy, and it lilts on the word _need_. "If there isn't, you can show yourself out. Dad's started doing random-hour room checks, just to make sure I'm not pulling a _Silent Hill_. Don't think he'd like to learn that _Silent Hill_ 's turned into _The Graduate_."

"I want to see behind your ear," Derek says. Even to him, the request sounds abrupt and arbitrary. He steels himself for a negative.

But Stiles just stares at him, eyebrow arched. "I'm not judging, but your weird just one-upped the guys who want to get kicked in the balls, the guys who like to be called 'daddy,' _and_ the guys who fetishize being cheated on."

It's Derek's turn to stare. "Stiles, what the hell?"

The teen shrugs. "Just saying. I figured you'd be into biting or just general roughness, maybe slapping people around, but — oh. Is it a vulnerability thing? Easy access to the throat and spine, or something?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't really know what _you're_ talking about."

"You should have a mark there."

Both of Stiles's eyebrows shoot up, and Derek blows out his breath in a frustrated sigh when Stiles opens his mouth. "Never mind. It's about the oni. I'll talk to Scott."

"You do that," Stiles says.

There's something wrong, Derek thinks as he leaves through the window. Stiles has always been scatterbrained, has never been cowed, but he's never been flirtatious. Has he? Have their confrontations been pigtail-pulling, for him? He recalls Stiles goading him into punching his hand and the ghost of a touch along his arm as Cora lay in the ambulance.

The Argent girl hasn't been sought out by the oni. Maybe Stiles really was just sleepwalking. Maybe the flirtation has more to do with him not being able to tell what's a dream and what isn't, not feeling like anything is real, leading him to ramp up what he's always been doing. Trying to seem healthy by exaggerating his usual behavior.

Derek lets it go, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> An episode tag to 3x17, Silverfinger. Based loosely on [this](http://yesthatnagia.tumblr.com/post/75556070018) idea. I may well continue this, if inspiration strikes again.


End file.
